The Breeze Chronicles: Ascension- OLD
by The Final Shadow
Summary: -based on the movies, post Kick Ass two- The Breeze. a teen boy with more than he seems. When Hit Girl flee's from New York she needs to get as far away as possible, the easiest choice, London, England. With three million dollars and a new city to protect, can she out last the coming storms without Dave and Marcus to support her? may have HG/OC if i feel like it is necessary


They say that there are no such thing as heroes. That the world is always destined to have bad people in it and no one to stand up to them. Sure there are police men and government. But even those are more than often corrupt. At the end of the day. The world is a pretty fucked up police without anyone around to unfuck it. Take my life for example. No i hadn't been the subject of some sort of government scandal or police abuse, mine was something much worse. I never knew my parents. My dad left before i was born and my Mum died when i was halfway out. They managed to find my Dad, when they did, they arrested him for possession of drugs with intent to sell. In essence, the fucked up world that I lived in started from when I was half way out the womb and seemed destined to carry on since.

When I was five, the really freaky shit started happening. I'd been living in the same foster home since I had been born, the kids kindly referred to it as the Shit hole, which to be fair it was. Suffice it to say i had never really gelled with the other kids there. Apparently there was something weird about me, something that put all of the other kids on edge and made them jumpy. When I was five I started to creep out the care workers as well. In my defense i didn't realize what i was doing at the time and I had never heard the saying 'with great power comes great responsibility'. Anyway, at the age of five I really lost it, and i mean really lost it. One of the other kids had stolen one of my stuffed animals. Those stuffed animals were the only friends I'd had so to say I was attached was an understatement. When it was dinner time I tried to approach one of the adults about it and they dismissed me with a flippant flick of a wrist and an order to eat my spaghetti. Now like i said, at the time i didn't know what i was doing at all, but, by some manner of power or magic I managed to lift said spaghetti out of my bowl and throw it at the woman who had dismissed me. Without the use of physical assistance.

Yeah, I know what you're thinking. I'm a crack pot, a fruit nut, a freak. The only one of those words that could really be put to me would be the last one. It genuinely happened. To this day I can't explain how I did it, but, I do know that I did and that there have been many more controlled events of power since then. In one simple term, I have powers.

I didn't know if the world was having a sick and twisted joke on me, first both of my parents are stolen from me, and then I am segregated from society even more by being cursed with some form of super power? After that event i never let myself use it in public again. Three psychologists and medical studies does that to a guy. But I have used it for small things, bringing a packet of crisps over that i cant be bothered to stand up and walk to, writing homework without actually using my hands and hurting my fingers, the little things.

So, the world is a fucked up place and I am a fucked up person with a fucked up skill. But you see, for a brief flare I got hope. I always tried to stay up to date with international news, so that's how I found out. Superheroes. Real life fucking Superheroes in New York. It was an internet hit in a matter of weeks. The famous 'Kick Ass'. I mean sure they didn't have any special qualities, they were just a bunch of kids running around in masked costumes and shit. They didn't really do anything. Well, I say that, but three years later, in present 2013, Super Heroes were a big thing. They were everywhere. Caped crusaders without power or ability, they were just there helping out where they could. It showed me that there was still goodness in the world.

But then it all got fucked up again. Of course where there are superheroes there are going to be super villains. Once again that happened in New York, the starting point of it all, The Motherfucker. He was a nasty piece of work. Nearly ended it for every one. In a sense he did. People hung up their masks and capes. Hit Girl, Kick ass' team. Everything went down hill. Even the few superheroes in London dissipated. The problem is, the villains stayed. But for me, for some stupid reason, even with my latent telekinetic ability. I never got involved, not until the hype had all but faded.

Book One: Ascension

She rode hard and fast. Straight to the airport without looking back. If she looked back she would go back. Back to Dave, back to Kick Ass, back to Marcus. She couldn't do that. Marcus would get her off of the hook easy enough but he would once again demand that she never donned her mask again. That she really would give up being a superhero. She knew that would never happen. Hit Girl was who she truly was inside, not some teen drama queen at a public school trying to discover her true identity. She knew her identity. So she decided to get out of New York, get out of America all together. With over three million dollars stashed away and the uncanny ability to hack near enough anything, she was off to England in no time.

The airplane landed with a jolt and woke her from a dozy half sleep. London, England. A whole new city, a whole new world of possibilities and things to do. Hit Girl was going to like it here. She stepped out of Heathrow airport with a smile on her face, knowing full well that her stuff had been brought over in advance and was already being delivered to an ex army base in a small town on the outskirts of the city, Uxbridge. The bunkers there were the perfect place. Her bat cave. The thought made her smile droop a little, remembering Dave, the look on his face when she had kissed her, the feeling of her heart breaking as she remembered that she was never going to see him again. She steeled herself against the thought, letting out a small sigh. The Motherfucker was dead. Dave was safe now, he knew what to do, he had a team.

It didn't take long for her to get from Heathrow to her new base of operations. When she did she immediately felt elated. This was it, something she had fantasized about from the start. Sure an apartment filled with guns and weapons was cool for a kid, but, now the little girl had grown, something better was in order. She walked through the gates, paying the Taxi driver the correct amount of Stirling and asking him to leave her. The moon hung high in the sky and cast the area in a cool white glow, offset by the harsh yellow of the artificial lights.

"Well Hit Girl" She said to herself, "Welcome home"

With a slight spring in her step hit girl walked forward, the entrance to the bunker barely visible off in the distance.

- The Breeze Chronicles -

He walked quickly. The footsteps behind him getting louder and closer as he did so. Ever since running away from the care home he had been careful, tried not to be seen or noticed. But now it seemed that getting noticed was exactly what he had done. Admittedly walking through Uxbridge high street in the dead of night wasn't the best of ideas, even for a teenager with the ability to manipulate matter a little. He was building up to fighting crime, just as his shoddy costume lead anyone to believe, but, whenever he got close to helping someone who was in the middle of being mugged or assisting a shop keeper who was being robbed, he wimped out. Years of using his abilities in private and never in public had done that to him. But now the muggers were looking to take the fight to him personally. To be quite frank he wasn't ready.

"Hey masky" The call came from behind him, "All you hero types have vanished, gone, want me to show you why?" the male voice chuckled, the typical bad boy accent prevalent.

"Yeah come on Mr. Caped crusader, show us what you got" a second voice came, this deeper than the first.

"Or is the mask wearing freak too much of a mamas boy to get involved," came the harsh voice from a third. It was at that point that something in him snapped. The boy in the costume whipped around quickly, his black cape rustling from the movement and blowing in the slight breeze.

"Don't talk about my mother" he snarled, his eyebrows knitting together furiously underneath his black and blue tinted goggles.

"Or what?" came the voice from the central guy. He was tall, a full head taller than the superhero and brandished a knife. The other two also had knives but were slightly shorter, it was not a fair fight by any means.

"What can you actually do superzero?" the leftward mugger sneered.

"We are going to cut you up you little masked freak" the one on the right said slowly, almost as if he was having trouble speaking.

The three advanced on him quickly, their knives in a defensive position of their chest, just in case the hero made a sudden move toward them. The one on the right came at him first, lunging forward clumsily and slashing his knife down in a large arc. The superhero twisted and side stepped out of the way, grabbing the mans arm as he did so to use his own momentum against him. He pulled hard and sent the man sprawling head first into the wall behind them with a sickening crack. A ball of adrenaline surged into his body.

"Whats your name you piece of shit?" asked the middle guy.

"I'm the Breeze" came his response, "and you picked the wrong hero to fuck with."

The middle guy laughed and looked to his left, with a slight nod they came at him both at the same time.

The Breeze jumped upward, projecting his thoughts at the ground so that he would get a little bit of extra lift. The two muggers ran underneath him as he soared over to behind them.

"What the fuck was that?" the mugger exclaimed, swiveling round to face The Breeze once more.

"I told you, I'm a superhero" The Breeze snarled, his previous inhibitions about using his telekinesis melting away.

The two men ran at him, pinning him against the wall quickly so that he didn't have time to react. One held him by his chest whilst the other had a knife up to his neck.

"You're about to be a dead superhero" the mugger stated, pushing his knife up to The Breeze's neck. The caped crusader let out a little whimper of fear.

"Let the kid go" Came a feminine voice from behind the muggers. The guy with the knife turned his head, keeping the knife firmly in place.

"Who the fuck are you supposed to be" He sneered, seeing the costumed girl, hands behind her back. The girl was decked out in a purple and black costume, a utility belt around her waist with the initials 'HG' embossed on it. She had startlingly purple hair and was crouched slightly in a position that she could easily strike from.

The girl cocked her head to the side slightly. "I'm Hit Girl" she said, "and you mother fuckers better let him go."

the two men started laughing. The lead mugger punched The Breeze in the gut before letting him drop to the ground, crumpling into a coughing fit. They turned their knives on the second hero.

Hit Girl pulled an almost pouting face, looking at the two smallish kitchen knives. "Aren't you ever embarrassed by their size?" she joked, pulling her hand out from behind her back to reveal a fully fledged Katana. She smirked slightly, relishing in the shiver of fear that passed through the two low lives.

"Go then" the lead mugger murmured to his companion, gesturing for him to advance. Hit Girl grinned. As the man advanced toward her she took off toward him running, she jumped and kicked off of the wall too her right, getting behind her attacker. As she did so she swung her Katana out behind her, slashing it across the mans back. Grinning at the lead mugger as his friend best over groaning she continued to run at him, bringing her Katana up in front of her in an almost samuri like fashion, the man lunged at her, trying to stab her in the chest or arm. Hit Girl easily deflected the blow, parrying it and allowing the mans blade to go flying through the air. The girl dropped her Katana and beckoned for the mugger to approach her.

The man ran at her, a lucky shot hitting the girl in the Jaw. Hit girl rolled with the punch, spinning out of it into a crouch. She grinned, running at the man with her own punch to the face, when he moved to block she quickly twisted her body and kicked him in the gut before bringing her fist to his face and breaking his nose.

"Hey Breeze" she called to the super hero on the ground. "Come with me" she said.

-The Breeze Chronicles-

Hit Girl took him in. The police arrived at the scene pretty quickly, the sirens causing the two masks to run, the Breeze forgetting about the dull ache that had infected his stomach. It wasn't long until the pair reached her head quarters.

"What the fuck were you thinking" she said, turning on him as soon as they got through the gates.

"Woah" Breeze responded putting his hands up in defense, "about the same as you by the looks of it."

"Well I was thinking that I was saving another dumb teen that's in way over his head" she retorted, walking off and beckoning him to follow. "Dip shits like you with no training, you don't get what you're leaving behind." she snarled.

"Not much" The Breeze said, stopping in his tracks. "You're hit girl, right?" he said, she nodded in response. Most of the Super Hero wannabes had hear the story of Kick ass, Hit Girl and Big Daddy. The MotherFuckers grip of terror over New York.

"Then you should know what its like to loose your family to crime and disease." he said, turning away from her and stalking off. Propelling himself over the fence with his telekinesis and running off.

Hit Girl stood there in shock. Not many people knew her back ground so intently, not many people had a similar claim to super heroism as her. No one could fly over a fence like that. Her mind wheeling in confusion, springing new ideas, she turned away. The Breeze was the first in a new breed of superhero, she mused to herself. A breed of super hero that actually had powers. She shook her head. The world was becoming an even more fucked up place, she had only been the start in its ascension.

The Breeze ran, tears streaming down his face. He was running along the Uxbridge road without a care. He had almost died, he had met the heroin of his dreams and then he had blew it. He could have even crashed at her place, it had been tough living on the streets since running away from the care home. Eventually he stopped, hunkering down on a park bench. Hit Girl might have been his only chance, and he might have already blown it.


End file.
